


Wellcheers

by Ashardalon125



Category: Lobotomy Corporation (Video Game)
Genre: Other, Wellcheers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:01:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26415331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashardalon125/pseuds/Ashardalon125
Summary: Netzach has an encounter with a particular Zayin Abnormality, and a series of events transpires.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	Wellcheers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Coordinator](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coordinator/gifts).



Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

Netzach let his eyes track the slow motion of the metronome on his desk. It was one of those that went _really_ slowly. Not the ones that went _tick-tick-tick_. They stressed him out. Maybe Yesod had one of those. Netzach smiled at the image of Yesod glaring at an employee with a _tick-tick-tick_ clock; it seemed like him.

He'd just found it on his desk this morning. Maybe a clerk had left it? Since when did they have instruments? Come to think of it, he'd been hearing some music in his department lately. Maybe it wasn't just being played over the PA system.

Now that he thought about it, he realized how stupid that conclusion was. Angela would never let music be played over the PA. That would be too much fun.

_So where's it coming from?_ His curiosity piqued, Netzach roused himself enough to stand up, taking a moment to fight the wave of light nausea that accompanied the motion. Knowing this place, it was probably an Abnormality. He'd need to find the files…

But first, he reset the metronome. It was comforting.

He staggered over to the file cabinet, placing one hand on top so he could lean while he looked at the titles. Alphabetized, of course. He would have to give some kind of reward to the kind clerk who took care of the files for him.

"Eeny, meeny, miny, moe," Netzach mumbled, picking a drawer at random. _And your prize is folders_. Listlessly, he ran his digit over the folder names, enjoying the little crinkling sounds they made. If he went faster, it sounded like when you shuffled a deck of cards, and if he went slower, it was like turning the page of a book.

He suddenly realized he was getting sidetracked, and started pulling up folders and glancing at the picture inside. It took him a few, but he finally found the culprit. Some Abnormality named "La Luna" in his department. Just a teacher and a piano, from the looks of it. Which probably meant the teacher fed students to the piano or something.

This place was fucked that way.

"Morning Sephirah! Getting an early start today?"

Netzach turned to glance at the clerk who had greeted him, and almost waved lazily in response when he saw something that made him pause. He blinked slowly, as if doubting what he was seeing. "What is that?"

"Huh?" the clerk asked, looking down on their clothes in a quickly rising panic. "What's on me!?"

"No, in your hand," Netzach clarified. "What are you holding?'

"Oh, this?" They lifted the object in question. An actual soda can. Netzach couldn't remember the last time he'd seen one of those. Angela had scrubbed the facility clear of just about anything that could be any amount of fun. "I got it from the Training Department. I put in a shift over there yesterday."

Netzach didn't wait for the clerk to finish explaining. Instead, he began racing down the hallway towards the Information Department, bowling past several clerks in his disorientation. A few agents gave him a strange look, surprised to see the Sephirah of a different department, to say nothing of it being Netzach of all people.

He ignored them all. Even Yesod, who sputtered indignantly as he was almost knocked down. The purple Sephirah shouted a few admonitions after him, but Netzach didn't care. He had a target in sight.

"Good morning, everyone! Let's make it another good day, okay?"

_Just in time,_ Netzach thought to himself as he reached the Training Department. Emerging onto the catwalk, he looked around, trying to find Hod, spotting her in the control room, setting down the PA microphone with a smile. One that turned to confusion once she saw him. He was flying up the stairs by the time she'd even started moving.

"Netzach? What are you-?"

"Where's the soda?" he demanded, gripping her shoulders to fix her eye with his. The nervous, orange light blinked a couple of times before realizing what he meant.

"You mean Wellcheers? It's upstairs, but I don't think-"

"Thanks," Netzach said quickly, headed for the stairs. Hod shouted something after him, but he didn't care. Sweet relief was in view. Sticky, sickly, sweet relief.

Reaching the upper hallway, he began running at full tilt, glancing through the windows to see what was inside the cells. He skidded to a halt once he saw it, and he had to double take to confirm what he was seeing.

There was a soda machine in one of the rooms, but it was flanked by a couple of...creatures. They were bipedal, and from the waist down looked like humans in overalls and boots, but above that was a different matter. A giant prawn head replaced the normal face, and a couple of flippers replaced the arms. The pair simply stood there, occasionally flicking a flipper as they waited.

"Fuck it, I've done worse," Netzach decided, stepping into the room. He closed the distance quickly, just in case they were dangerous. He could _see_ the single can waiting for him. Tempting him. The pair didn't even move, and even once he grabbed it, nothing happened.

Deciding to risk it, he popped the cap, throwing back the drink, and it damn near brought tears to his eyes. How long had it been since he'd tasted actual flavour? The acid wasn't good for his chassis, but he didn't fucking care. He was going to drink every last drop and then some.

A muffled banging caught his attention, and he turned to see Hod looking through the glass in horror, accompanied by a similarly unnerved Yesod. Hod was saying something, if her frantic motions were anything to go by, but he couldn't hear her through the glass, and Yesod just stared.

Netzach glanced at the can, and gestured to it, earning a very enthusiastic nod from Hod. Oh, so the problem was the soda. He didn't taste anything wrong with it. Maybe there wasn't that much? If so, maybe Yesod was jealous he was getting one of the last ones. Netzach just smiled and continued to enjoy the soda.

He dropped the can without ceremony, enjoying the pleasant sensation of bubbling energy in his mind. Actually, now that he thought about it, it kind of reminded him of beer. He could feel a pleasant warmth inside, and just wanted to sit down and relax.

_Wait a minute...soda isn't like beer_ , he recalled. _Soda makes you feel energetic. Why do I feel so...tired…_

Netzach sat down, suddenly unable to keep himself balanced, and laid back on the floor, watching the room spin. The two prawn-men started to loom over him, wiggling their arms, and Netzach laughed at the sight.

It did look funny.

Turning his eye to the side, he could see Hod at the door, trying in vain to pry it open, while Yesod just shook his head. Even without sound, he could understand what Yesod was saying.

_You idiot_.

Netzach was about to flip him off when he heard waves.

* * *

"You idiot," Yesod muttered, watching the room fill with foamy water. In a matter of seconds, Netzach was gone from view, and being carted off to the ships. The shrimp men worked fast too, so their "comrade" was already well on his way to the boats.

"No!" Hod shouted, finally getting the door open, but too late. Netzach was gone. Her hands clutched her chassis in obvious panic, her eye flicking about in fear. " _Whatdowedowhatdowedowhatdowedo?_ "

"Report it and move on," Yesod said simply. "Angela will send someone to get him back, and he'll be punished. He broke a lot of rules after all."

"We can't let him get in trouble like that!" Hod protested, grabbing Yesod's arm, prompting him to turn and glare at her.

"We can, and we will," he stated boredly. "The idiot clearly broke the rules and got punished for it. When Angela finds out, she'll be quite irritated."

"Please, Yesod! I don't want Netzach to get in trouble!"

"At least you made a factually correct statement," Yesod grumbled, pulling his arm away in frustration. "What would you have me do, Hod?"

"Uh...um," Hod stumbled, surprised to even hear him consider it, no matter how rhetorically he meant it. She rubbed her hands together, a thin metallic scraping coming off them at the nervous motion. "You...you could stop Angela from finding out?"

Yesod actually let out a laugh at that one. Only one. He had standards after all. "Stop Angela from finding something out? I wouldn't be surprised if she knew already."

" _Does she!?"_ Hod asked, her panic rising. She looked about ready to bolt, but Yesod kept talking, getting her attention.

"I don't know," he admitted. "But she'll figure it out quick enough."

"But...what if she didn't?"

"That can't happen. She _will_ know," Yesod insisted.

"Can't you do something? Like...hide the footage or something?"

Yesod bristled at the suggestion, but held his metaphorical tongue. Hod was just desperate, not malicious. Even she seemed to realize her mis-step, and cowered in on herself.

"I could," Yesod said at length, not looking at her fully. "But that wouldn't change the fact that Netzach is not present, and she will notice that. Even as lazy as he is, Netzach is important to his department."

Hod nodded slowly, like a child who'd just been told that she couldn't get a puppy. Yesod hated that look. With a deep sigh that shook his chassis, he contemplated just walking away. It would be so easy. The second she was out of sight, he could just pretend it never happened. He could even submit the report himself, maybe lessen Angela's ire.

"We need to talk to Tiphereth."

"Huh?" Hod asked, perking up at the seemingly disconnected statement.

"Tiphereth has experience running a large department. She's always telling us that she could run our departments better than we could. If we can convince her to run Netzach's department, then we have a chance," Yesod explained. Then leaned in close with a narrowed eye. "Notice that I said ' _if'_ and ' _chance_.' This is the only plan I can think of. Of course, it's possible that Tiphereth won't agree-"

"That's okay! It still means Netzach might not get in trouble! Come on, we have to talk to Tiphereth!" Hod exclaimed, grabbing Yesod's arm to drag him along.

Yesod was already beginning to hate this plan.

* * *

If there was one upside to all of this, Yesod could safely say it was Tiphereth's reaction. The young girl was perpetually in a foul mood, but this maxed it out. She said some words he wasn't even aware she knew, and in quite...colourful ways.

And now she'd lapsed into an exhausted silence, face down on the desk.

For a minute, neither he, nor Hod, said anything. Hod glanced at him nervously, looking for answers, but he just waited patiently. It didn't really matter which way things shook out. He just didn't want Hod to think he hadn't tried.

"So…" Hod prompted, finally breaking the silence. Tiphereth immediately looked up, glaring hotly with her yellow optic. Hod fell silent with a chastised yip. Tiphereth sighed again, and banged her chassis on the table a couple of times, grumbling under her breath.

"All of them, stupid, stupid, _stupid_ ," she cursed, punctuating the last one with a particularly hard 'bang' to the table. With a sharp intake that crackled on her speakers, Tiphereth finally sat up, folding her hands in front of her. "Alright. Now that that's passed, I think we can talk. _No_."

"But Tiphereth-!"

"I said _no!_ " Tiphereth shouted, cutting Hod off. "I'm not helping that _fool_ get out of trouble! And I'm not helping either of you idiots either! Maybe Angela will finally get rid of you, and I can run the place myself!"

"Tiphereth…" Hod moaned, but Yesod simply held up his hand to quiet her.

"Well, we tried. Told you she couldn't do it."

"I didn't say I _couldn't_ do it, I just won't do it," Tiphereth cut in, glaring daggers at Yesod, who simply regarded her flatly.

"Seems like the same thing to me."

"You little-!" Tiphereth started before catching herself. "I could totally do it. I just refuse to help that lazy, good for nothing Sephirah."

Yesod glanced at Hod, silently hoping she got the message. Her optic flicked between him and Tiphereth, before widening slightly in what he assumed was a blossoming smile.

"It's probably for the best," Hod lamented. "Angela would figure it out anyway. No one's that good."

"Now listen here!" Tiphereth whirled about, jabbing a sharp digit towards Hod, despite the difference in their heights. "I will not tolerate an upper level Sephirah dismissing my talents! If you're telling me _Netzach_ runs his department better than I could, then you're just as high as he is. I'll run the department _ten_ times- no, _twenty_ times better than he could!"

"Wait, are you doing it?" Hod asked, faking her surprise.

Tiphereth crossed her arms with a huff, falling back into her seat. "Only to show you how tragically wrong you are! Once I succeed, you'll have no choice but to acknowledge my skill."

Tiphereth paused, obviously waiting for some kind of accolade. Yesod simply turned on heel, gesturing for Hod to follow him. Behind him, he could hear a sputter that was cut short as soon as it was realized, followed by an annoyed huff.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Hod began bouncing excitedly, moving quickly to walk backwards in front of Yesod. "I can't believe it worked!"

"There was a non-zero chance," Yesod said coolly. "But it's still likely to fail, just so you know."

"But it also just got more likely," Hod countered. "So what's next?"

"We need to assemble a small team to rescue Netzach. They can't be too good, or their absence will be noted. And it can't be too large, or we won't have enough people to handle the company. They also have to be drawn from either Netzach's, yours, or my department, since the other Sephirah would notice."

"Alright! I'll see who I can find. You find someone from Netzach's and yours, and we'll send 'em out."

Before Yesod could even protest, Hod was off like a flash. Not that a protest would have stopped Hod. Or that he wanted to stop her. If he was being honest, he was interested in how this would all go down. Odds were good on Angela finding out immediately, and getting them all in trouble. But on the off chance this went off without any of them getting in trouble, it would make his life easier.

Getting Netzach back was a...secondary benefit.

* * *

At first, Netzach thought maybe the rust had reached his audio receptors, because there was no way he was hearing water. Or maybe the Enkephalin had finally managed to fill enough of him to slosh around.

_Heh, that's a funny image_ , he noted humourlessly, attempting to rock his brick-of-a-chassis. All he managed to do was flail his arms lazily, slapping against some hard surface.

He was still rocking, so it was probably the Enkephalin in his system. It was a bit weird though; if he was dosed with that much, he felt like he should be far less composed. Maybe if you used too much Enkephalin, you eventually became hyper-sane? He'd have to tell Chesed. Or not. That sounded like work.

A dull sound cut through the waves. It sounded like when you rubbed skin against an inflated balloon. A moment later, he wondered how he remembered that. He didn't have skin, and the company didn't have balloons. Another grand mystery of life.

Suddenly, he was pitched backwards, and he felt the surface he was on was gone. Only a pressure around his shoulders. Light flooded his optic, and he felt the mental urge to blink even as his vision adjusted instantly.

A large hulk of a man was regarding him with a set frown made more intense by his muscular underbite. Netzach got the impression he was supposed to feel intimidated, but compared to Angela, this guy wasn't any scarier than a lost puppy. The man waited, his glare seeming to only increase over time.

Netzach took the moment to look around, quickly realizing he wasn't in the containment cell or the department. He was beginning to doubt he was in Lobotomy either, as he beheld blue expanses of water in every direction, of which only the small boat he was on seemed to be of any kind of difference.

Then again, maybe he was hallucinating. Or maybe this was how that stupid soda machine worked. Either way, one of the other Sephirah would probably come back to yell at him soon enough.

"Can I help you?" he asked lazily.

"Huh, so it talks," the man grunted, dropping him unceremoniously. Netzach didn't even try and land, simply falling onto his back. The wooden floor barely mattered to his metal exterior. "Didn't expect 'em to send us a bot."

"Didn't expect to be sent," Netzach grumbled, pushing himself up. Now that he wasn't face to face with a wall of meat, he could see a few other sailors on the boat, all of them attending to various chores. He narrowed his optic as a vague feeling of recognition came to him. "...Jean?"

Getting up, he brushed past the mountain of a man who shouted something at him, but Netzach ignored him as he walked towards one of the sailors. Everyone seemed to pause and look at him with a mixture of confusion and fear. Why were they so afraid? Did the Abnormality disable the cognition filter?

"Ah," he said aloud, stopping himself. He continued a moment later, looking up at the sandy blonde sailor. "Would you happen to be named Jean?"

"Uh...y-yes?" he answered nervously.

"Oh...cool. Wondered what happened to you. Guess I know now," Netzach noted tiredly. He hadn't wondered too hard, admittedly. But he'd wondered a little. He turned around to see the big man had followed him. He raised a hand, waving lamely. "Yeah?"

"Listen, I don't know what kind of thing you are, but if the company sends us their crap, we use it," the man grumbled pointedly. "So you're going to help out on this ship, got it?"

"That sounds like a lot of work…" Netzach lamented tiredly, letting his arms droop. "But I guess I don't really have a choice."

"Good. Since you seem to recognize our greenhorn here, I'll have him teach you the ropes. _Jean!_ Show box-boy here how we run things!"

"Aye aye, cap'n!" Jean shouted fearfully, earning a curt nod from the cap'n. Netzach chuckled at the title. Cap'n. Who the fuck was a captain these days? Not even Yesod, with his ego rammed up his ass, would call himself Captain.

_Captain Yesod. Captain Hod. Huh, they rhyme._

After a moment, he realized Jean was staring at him awkwardly, and waiting for him to say something. "Sorry, did you say something? I spaced out."

"I gotta show you the ropes, or I get in trouble," Jean said nervously.

"Ah. Right. That would be bad," Netzach noted lamely. "Well, go ahead. Can't have someone else getting in trouble because of me."

And thus, Netzach found himself learning the ropes. He just hadn't realized it was so literal. How many different kinds of knots did one person need?

And what the hell was a coxswain?

* * *

"Pardon my language, sir, but what the _fuck_ are we doing?"

Normally, Michaela wouldn't doubt the orders of the Sefirot, especially Yesod's, but this was far beyond their normal orders. This was... _madness_. There was no other way to explain it. Utter madness.

Fortunately, Yesod seemed barely perturbed by her disbelief, simply regarding her and the other two Agents with the same bored, vaguely disapproving expression he always did. "We have received reports of a piece of Lobotomy Corporation property being observed outside the company. You three are to go and retrieve it."

Any part of that order was insane. Nothing left Lobotomy. Nobody left Lobotomy. And if they did, they certainly never came back.

"So...what are we looking for, sir?" Agent R asked nervously, obviously feeling just as nervous as Michaela. "And why us?"

They both glanced at the third Agent: Agent J. A newbie from Hod's department. Barely tested against the Abno's, and Michaela doubted he'd cut his teeth on anything above Teth class. The kind of guy that hid in the regenerators during a Dawn event.

Agent R was at least a long time employee, like herself. They'd worked together back when the company was first getting off the ground. In fact, it had been under Yesod at the time, now that Michaela thought about it. And judging by the purple band on Agent R's arm, she'd never gotten moved out, unlike Michaela.

Getting stuck in Netzach's department had been...a thing.

"You are looking for a robot, about this tall," Yesod explained, gesturing to a height slightly above his head. "Somewhat run down, and likely leaking a green fluid. It has a single green eye in the corner of its torso."

Yesod gestured to the table, which pulled up a map. It took Michaela a second to realize it was a map of the surface. But Yesod barely paused, highlighting a path with a quick gesture of his hand.

"You three have been chosen because you are most suited to the requirements of this task," he explained cryptically. "This is the route you are to take. I recommend not deviating from it."

Michaela's first instinct was to protest, but she kept her mouth shut, instead looking at the map. It seemed like they were going to leave the facility, travel through the Backstreets until they reached the Outskirts, and then head to the nearby coastline, where there was a small town.

"I take it the target is in that town?" Agent R asked, likely reaching the same conclusion as her.

"No," Yesod said, surprising them both. "Once in that town, you are to secure a boat, and look for a fishing vessel in the nearby bay. The robot will be amongst the crew there. You are permitted to obtain the robot by any means necessary. We would prefer the robot in good condition, but understand if it must be taken by force."

"Right…" Michaela agreed slowly before shrugging the cannon on her shoulder. "And so...why are we taking this low class gear? Normally I have-"

"What you normally have is of no consequence," Yesod cut her off, narrowing his eyes imperiously. "The outside is dangerous, and should you fall, it costs valuable energy to replace good gear. Thus, your equipment is limited to Teth class or below."

"Right, sir," she confirmed, knowing better than to argue with the Viper. She wasn't a big fan of equipping her old Noise gear, but at least with her radio, she could handle it better than most. And White gear was important to have. "Anything we should know about the outside?"

"I've routed you through Index territory. That should be the safest district to move through," Yesod explained, subdividing the city. "Stay within these margins, unless you wish to earn the ire of the other organizations."

Both she and Agent R nodded, and Michaela suppressed a groan at Agent J's delayed response. She had no doubt in her mind this was going to suck. Still, there was no defying Yesod, especially since this was apparently a multi-department effort.

"You will have ten minutes to prepare. Then you move out," Yesod commanded, turning to leave without pausing, not even when Agent J sputtered uselessly, five different questions dying on his tongue.

"Don't bother, kid," Michaela advised as soon as Yesod was out of sight. "The Viper doesn't say more than he wants to."

Without waiting for a response, she turned to Agent R. "What did you get?"

Agent R gestured with her spear and matching purple and black robes. "Somewhere Spear. At least they gave me a melee weapon with reach. What about you, newbie?"

Agent R startled at the call, unholstering a _wand_ of all things that matched his stupidly bright cyan clothing. "I got uh...this?"

"Fairy Festival? Are you kidding me?" Agent R asked, shaking her head. Upon seeing Michaela's confused expression, she explained. "Zayin."

"Well, that's hardly going to leave a dent on anything. Guess it'll have to do."

"It's not my choice!" Agent J protested. "It's what I was given!"

Michaela shrugged the Noise cannon back onto her shoulder. She did not miss the weight, now that she'd become used to better gear. She glanced at the map, still in disbelief at the mission they were being sent to do. This hardly seemed like a task for some mid-ranking employees and a newbie. Not even the A-tier Agents went out for field missions.

Still, she had her private suspicions that Yesod wasn't intending to send them on a suicide mission. The path he'd outlined was too conspicuously detailed, which suggested he put some amount of effort into it. Picking it up, she tossed it to Agent R, who caught it easily.

"Alright. We got less than ten minutes to get what we need," Michaela said, clapping her hands together imperiously. It was more for J's sake than anything, since R was already working on her equipment. She turned her gaze fully towards J. "You worked with EGO much?"

"Just during Dawn events," he admitted.

"Then you better learn fast," Michaela demanded, grabbing his wand and thrusting it squarely into his hands. "This is your weapon, and you need to trust it. You are borrowing someone else's strength, so trust in it, and it'll guide you."

"How am I supposed to trust a weapon?" J asked, dumbfounded. He earned a smack over the head for his trouble.

"These aren't your average weapons, rookie," Michaela hissed. "They're made from the Abnormalities, and carry some of their power and personality. You have to focus on what that Abnormality _is_ and let it guide you. You ever worked with the Fairy Festival personally?"

"All the time. I'm in charge of feeding it," he boasted.

"Then you know about it's true intention for healing people?" Michaela questioned, fixing him with an intense look over Little Helper's glasses.

"What do you mean?"

Michaela pinched the bridge of her nose. Of all the people for Hod to send, it had to be the most green of the green. "Fairy Festival protects its food. It wants to make sure you don't die so that it can eat you. If it thinks you're going to die, it consumes you instantly."

J paled, and Michaela continued, taking advantage of his shock. "Fairy Festival is a prime example of how nothing here is purely positive. Their "kindness" is nothing more than a way to secure food. If you focus your mind on that, you can bring out the power of your EGO weapon."

"So...what are your weapons?"

Michaela smirked at that, jerking her head towards where R was staring into the middle distance while holding the Somewhere Spear. "Fragment of the Universe is trying to send us a message, but can never get through. Our minds can't handle it. And mine? 1.76 MHz is a simple creature. It hates violence."

"Then why does it have a cannon?"

"It doesn't shoot bullets. It shoots sound waves. They fill the target's mind with static and pacifies them. It can be a bit overwhelming," Michaela explained before flicking the radio attached to her chest. "And this here is it's gift. It can be a bit distracting, but it makes the weapon more powerful so long as I'm wearing the suit."

Throwing the cannon over her back, she leaned over to tap R's shoulder, who quickly snapped back into reality. "But that's enough of that. It's time to roll out."

* * *

Even with his mechanical hands, knot-tying was a simple matter. In fact, the less he thought about it, the better he was. If he was not thinking about knotting, he could knot better.

Not.

Knotting.

The words ran over each other in his head, and he chuckled to himself at the private joke.

Another wave of sea spray passed over him, and he didn't so much as flinch. The others had quickly realized the usefulness of having someone who didn't mind the stinging water work in the front of the boat. If anything, he kinda liked it. The salty water had a nice smell, and cleared off the gunk that was almost permanently affixed to his chassis.

_Guess I finally went clean_ , he joked with himself.

Once he was done with knotting, he glanced around, seeing what everyone else was doing. Things were actually pretty laid back. After the initial scare, everyone had calmed down somewhat, and went back to work. He could still see the slight widening of eyes whenever someone realized he was looking at them, but he wasn't sure why. Sure, he was a robot, but he had no interest in assimilating anyone or anything.

"You guys need help?" he asked, seeing a group of the sailors trying to haul in a net. It looked pretty hard, and he was done with his knotting. He meandered over, looking at the net before grabbing it and beginning to pull. It wasn't actually that bad, and was coming up pretty easily. Pretty soon, they got their haul of shrimp, and he dusted his hands lazily.

Only to turn to see the surprise of the other crew, who were staring at him disbelievingly. He tilted his chassis, curious at what was bothering them. "Is there something on my face?"

He brushed his chassis, but nothing came away. He shrugged, turning to head back to his work. _Guess they're still not over the robot thing._

He failed to notice how most of the netting lay by where he had been standing.

* * *

"Absolutely filthy! _You!_ Get these out of my sight!" Tiphereth demanded, waving her hands at the syringes of Enkephalin that lay all over the table. The clerk subject to her wrath nodded quickly, sweeping the needles into a disposal unit, more afraid of the sharp glare of Tiphereth than of the needles themselves.

Without hesitating, she turned to look at one of the Agents. "Did I say you could slack off? The Regenerator's fixed your broken bones, so get back in there and make some energy! Double time!"

"Wow, she's merciless," Hod muttered, watching Tiphereth ordering Netzach's department around. Yesod agreed, though he said nothing. They had both come to check on Tiphereth, just to make sure everything was going well, but had gotten wrapped up in the sight of her whipping the normally lazy Security Department into shape.

"Tiphereth, status report!" Tiphereth demanded, practically slamming the intercom connection between them.

"Everything's going fine here," Tiphereth reported cheerfully. "Business as usual."

With a satisfied look, Tiphereth nodded to herself, before catching their gazes. "What are you standing around for? Are all Upper Sephira this lazy? Get out of my department!"

"It's not technically your department," Hod noted quietly, but withered under Tiphereth's narrowed optic.

"It is while Netzach's not around," Tiphereth said, crossing her arms impetuously. "And while it's my department, I don't want any of you in it!"

"Fine, fine," Yesod agreed, motioning for Hod to follow him out. "We'll get out of your hair."

"I'm beginning to think this wasn't the greatest plan," Hod muttered, but clammed up as soon as they saw Angela waiting in the Information Department. "Oh, Angela! What brings you here?"

"I am checking on the departments. Energy collection at the start of the day was low, so I thought it prudent to investigate the issue."

"Oh that's because...uh…" Hod started, but shut up once Yesod glared at her.

"Netzach is wasted right now, so we had to get Tiphereth to stand in for him," Yesod explained flatly. "The deficit should be made up by now."

"It is," Angela agreed. "However, I should have been informed of this change in management sooner."

"Netzach normally arrives at the last possible minute anyway, so we wouldn't have known until he didn't show up," Yesod countered. "However, we'll be keeping a much closer eye on him from now on."

"Be that as it may, I should have been informed as soon as you knew. I expect prompt reports in the future," Angela commanded, and both Yesod and Hod nodded.

"Of course. Now, we'd hate to take up any more of your time," Yesod excused. "We should get back to our departments."

"Try not to cause more trouble," Angela said, with the faintest hint of a sigh.

* * *

"It's official. I hate the Outskirts," Michaela declared, blasting away at a grouping of Amber Dawns. The little wormlike creatures had emerged like a blanket from a fissure in the ground as they passed. Definitely more than Michaela had ever fought at once in Lobotomy Corporation. Made all the worse by the lack of Der Freischutz' gun. If she had that, it would have been a breeze, but she had to settle for huffing on his pipe instead.

Still, she wasn't as bad as Agent R, who'd been given a spear. It was hard to fight a horde with just a stick, especially when they could surround you. Still, she was doing a valiant job of it, sweeping in broad strokes that cut through the weak Ordeals.

"They're getting closer on this side!" J yelled, and Michaela sighed, aiming at the flank to obliterate a patch of worms. To his credit, J had been holding up better than she'd expected. But technically, being alive at this point was better than expected, so it wasn't much of an improvement.

With her radio crackling, and the smoke circling around her head, Michaela mowed down the worms as best as she could. Fortunately, they didn't have much sanity to speak of, and the Noise cannon was able to sap it away in a heartbeat, making them turn and flee.

Perhaps the most annoying thing of it all was J's weapon. With every swing, it gave off an annoying tinkling sound that was completely incongruous with the damage it caused, caving in the carapaces of the worms in a bloody spray that somehow failed to stain the equipment. At least he was still alive.

Eventually, the worms seemed to decide they weren't worth the trouble, and with one last shot, the last of the aggressors was driven off. Michaela waited a moment, expecting the other shoe to drop, but only the silence of the wastes answered.

"Come on, let's move," Michaela ordered, pausing only to nudge R, who was spacing again.

"Wait, shouldn't we rest?" J asked, and Michaela fixed him with a hard glare.

"Unless you want to meet a Dusk, we keep walking." As if to punctuate her sentence, a feeling like distant thunder rippled through the earth. "If you want to test your luck, stay here. We're moving."

* * *

"Can I _help_ you?" Tiphereth growled, glaring at Chesed as he regarded her with a smug smile that occasionally disappeared behind the rim of a coffee mug. He'd done nothing but stare at her for a few minutes, and she'd hoped he'd simply disappear if she ignored him long enough.

"Nah, I'm good," he said simply.

"Don't you have a department to run or something? Or are you on _another_ coffee break?"

"I'm just enjoying the show. Besides, the Welfare Team does what it does," he said with a shrug, swirling his coffee. "So...when's Netzach getting back?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Tiphereth said calmly. "I'm sure he's just drunk somewhere."

"No, he's not," Chesed said knowingly. "I checked all his usual sleeping spots. Even the ones you don't know about."

"Then why are you wasting my time asking?" Tiphereth demanded.

"I just wanted to know why you were bothering."

"Just because the rest of you let this place rot and fall apart, doesn't mean I have to. Besides, this shows I'm better than those slackers!"

Chesed hummed neutrally, and Tiphereth was starting to feel an overwhelming temptation to throw something at him. Maybe not the clipboard, since she still needed it, but maybe the annoyingly slow metronome would suffice.

"Maybe I should see if Gebura wants in on this-"

In the end, she threw it at him.

* * *

"Fifteen men on a dead man's chest! Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!"

Netzach joined in the chant as he tapped his feet. He wasn't sure where he learned to do a jig, but he'd just been possessed by the feeling when the songs started up. Now he was standing on top of one of the tables in the mess hall, chugging offered mugs of beer.

If this was a hallucination, it was a fun one.

"HAND OVER THE ROBOT!" crackled a staticky voice over the revelry. Everyone else jumped up, but Netzach just slowly turned to look out the porthole window, spotting the boat that was pulling up beside them.

"Guess the party's over," he commented lazily, leaning down to help himself off the table. "Don't worry guys, they're here for me."

Netzach ignored the sputtering, half-started sentences, opening the door to the deck. Instantly, a Noise Cannon was aimed at his face.

"Hey, calm down. I'm coming peacefully," he assured them, waddling over towards the railing. He squinted as the boat pulled closer, and he realized they looked familiar. "Hey...if it isn't R. How're you doing?"

"How do you know me?" R asked, clutching her spear tighter.

"Doesn't matter," Netzach waved off. "You guys are here for me, yeah?"

"That is correct. I assume you're going to comply?" M asked. Always so serious. No wonder Yesod had been so reticent to let her join his department.

"Sure thing," he nodded, climbing onto the boat. The agents didn't waste any time in pulling away, and he sat down, watching the small fishing vessel get smaller in the distance. He couldn't help but feel a little melancholic, but still, all dreams had to come to an end.

Now, when would the alarm start ringing?

* * *

"The work day is over."

With Netzach back in the facility, the sound of Angela's voice had never been so relaxing to hear. Yesod even allowed himself a rare smile. One that instantly faded as he rounded on Netzach, smacking the top of his chassis.

"You colossal idiot!" he hissed.

"Don't hit Netzach! It's not his fault," Hod protested, moving to hold back Tiphereth, who seemed more inclined to follow Yesod's example.

"Of course it's his fault," Yesod asserted. "He entered the containment unit. He drank the soda. It is his fault."

"S-Still, he's probably shaken up from all that!"

"Actually, it was kind of f-" Netzach started to comment, only to earn a silencing kick from Chesed.

"Don't mind him. He's still disoriented from the trip," Chesed interrupted with a cheeky smile and a sip of coffee. Yesod narrowed his eye knowingly, shaking his head.

"Regardless, Netzach is not to be allowed near Wellcheers again for the foreseeable future. Do I make myself-?"

"I agree. This whole farce could have been averted had you followed proper procedures," a familiar, cold voice interrupted, and the Sephirah turned to see Angela regarding them with a look of disdain. "I calculated a significant drop in productivity today due to your 'antics'."

"What do you mean-?" Hod started, but withered under Angela's invisible glare.

"Oh please. I knew the moment Netzach left the facility. I only allowed this to serve as a warning. Next time something like this happens, I will step in myself and deal with it. I will not suffer such a stupid series of events again."

With that, Angela left as quickly as she'd come.

"What did she mean 'series of events'?" Netzach asked from the floor.

Yesod sighed. "That will require some explanation…"


End file.
